When Artists Run
by Mable
Summary: Unhappy with his life and himself, Six runs away and ends up at the phonograph, unknowing that he has been followed the entire time and that someone else does care. 5x6 Oneshot


**Mable: Made for CuddlyHawk who requested a 5x6 fic; thanks for requesting! I hope it turned out alright; I tried my best to finish it quickly. :) I don't own 9, Enjoy!**

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_**When Artists Run**_

Sometimes it seemed like it would be easier if he just left. Sometimes he found inspiration and drive to do anything. Unfortunately, those two were eventually bound to clash.

_To Everyone,  
I can't live here anymore. I don't do anything right and it would be better if I was alone. Goodbye.  
-6_

Six's note looked like scratches instead of real letters, and the Artist saw it as being pitiful writing. However he didn't plan to be here when the letter was read, so it didn't matter. After this he quickly grabbed the easiest inkwell to carry, the smallest, and a decent stack of paper that was rolled and tucked under his free arm. It was all he really as all he wanted was to draw so he saw no need to bring anything else; it wasn't as though he could fight anyway and would need a weapon.

Honestly it was Six's recent issues with self-esteem that were putting these thoughts into his head. The bullying from Eight and weird looks from the others didn't help these feelings either. It seemed that the more the Artist slept the more he would become aware, and the more he became aware the more that he would notice how different he was. Even with the sleep helping his mind, he still had the problems with speaking, the clumsy patterns, and felt overwhelmingly depressed about it.

So now the plan was to leave. He didn't want everyone to see him like this anymore, he knew they didn't care, and he was destined to be alone. As Six went down the bucket lift of the New Sanctuary, their home rebuilt into a two story house, he had never felt so alone, so unwanted. Though he still didn't turn back and continued out into the Emptiness. It was a cold night and the ground was damp from recent rains so it was immediately uncomfortable.

What was worse was the wind. Whether brushing his fabric and sending cold chills through him or howling like a Cat Beast into the night, the wind was nearly enough to cause Six to run back home. Instead, though, he decided to make his pilgrimage still. There was only a single location in mind and where he went from there was a mystery. It was a good period of time before he crossed a closer area of the trench and managed to reach the destination; the phonograph.

It still rested beside the remnants of the destroyed factory. Untouched, unmoved, still lingering with the memories of its few minutes of use, and the few minutes of happiness. It caused Six to feel worse so he left his paper and ink on the ground and climbed up onto the crank of the Phonograph. It wasn't turning like before, but at least it allowed him to rest a bit.

Six remembered the minutes of happiness. Honestly, while smiling quite a bit at times, Six rarely felt actually happy, and he only started to realize so recently. He was constantly thinking about the incident, how he knew what was coming but couldn't stop it. It made the more recent nightmares scare him even more. They had lessened a bit, but Six was also becoming more fearful of having them. It was as though he didn't want to have the pressure of knowing on him, less he fail again.

That was when Six was suddenly alerted to the sound of nearby movement. He tensed and looked about wildly, fearing for a Beast to attack, and fell from the crank onto the unforgiving ground below. He scuttled back against the side of the music making machine and braced himself for its appearance. He saw a dim, rosy light nearby and began to shiver from cold and fear.

That's when he saw the match that was making the light, soon followed by the creature following him. It wasn't a beast at all. Instead, it was none other than the Stitchpunk with a single optic, the Stitchpunk who had shared the few good memories of the incident, Five. Five looked concerned and was holding both a match, though Six guessed he probably used a few on the way here, and his needle harpoon. He was also wearing the thick covering, almost like a cape, that was owned and used by Two, though Two called it a 'frock'.

At the word 'frock', Six suddenly heard the word 'freak', and remembered all the times he was given the title. It managed to shoot down his mood, and he forced himself to focus only on the other Stitchpunk. "Five…." He spoke quietly as he shakily stepped away from the phonograph and closer to the burlap one. Five smiled in relief and came up to Six, grasping him on the arm, "Are you okay? You had us all worried- We found your note."

Six tensed at the mentioning of the note and looked down. "Why… Why did…." A new question bloomed, "How did you know… I came here…?" Five smiled a little wider, "I just… I just had a feeling you'd be here. Seven went to check the Library and a few of the others were checking the houses around the New Sanctuary. We were all so worried about you." Six looked down and stared at the ground during the beginning of the explanation and waited until Five was done before announcing, "I'm not going back."

Five reeled a little and went to speak, but Six didn't let him, "I can't go back. I need to be alone." He decided to put some distance between himself and Five by walking a few steps away and looking in the opposite direction. His pen tipped hands grasped the key hanging from around his neck. He felt the saddening feeling of disappointment in himself from upsetting Five. However, Five's reaction wasn't expected at all.

Instead of words, Six felt Two's frock being gently wrapped around his shoulders. He looked down at Five's hands which skillfully covered him, as calmly and softly as if he was stitching up a wound. "Five?" He asked, his voice cracking a little in a rapidly growing nervousness, and Five responded with a surprisingly pleasant tone. "You look cold. It _is _the middle of the night." But Six didn't understand, "You're not mad?"

"Of course I'm not mad, Six." Five smiled once again, but Six couldn't face him, as he felt too shy for some reason. It took a few tries to get more words out, "But… But I'm not going back." Five shrugged, "That's alright, Six. You don't have to go back unless you want to." Six nodded slowly. "I'll just stay with you." Six suddenly looked confused, "You're… staying? With me?" Five's look showed that he wasn't lying and was seriously planning on staying.

The healer did stay, too. Even when they changed to actually sit down. Five drug over some sort of metal scrap from nearby to use as a seat while Six used the crank once again. They didn't dare turn the phonograph on, or risk listening to the song that gave them so much trouble, and instead sat in silence. The one eyed one was working on his harpoon while the Artist watched him do so. He couldn't deny that he was glad Five was here, he couldn't deny that he wouldn't miss Five if they were separated, and he couldn't understand why.

Something in his chest felt weird and Six began to squirm uncomfortably. There was something he wanted, but he didn't know exactly what. Maybe this was the real reason he left the Sanctuary. Finally he broke down and climbed to the ground before sitting beside Five. Five was very focused on his work so Six didn't interrupt and instead just watched him. A few minutes passed before Five abruptly broke the silence, "Why did you really leave?"

Six didn't answer. He just stared at the harpoon a little longer before leaning against Five's shoulder. His nestled his face into the familiar burlap and took in the equally familiar smell. He hoped Five wouldn't mind, because he didn't want to move, he didn't feel like he could. The Healer put the harpoon gun in his lap and wrapped an arm around the Artist's small frame. Maybe it was the location that Six ran to, but Five voiced his own theory, "Is this about the incident?"

"A little." Six revealed honestly to his companion. "I don't know…" Then, his tone changed to one of distress, "I knew, but I didn't do anything. I didn't do anything at all. I just let it happen." Five rubbed his back, "Six, it's okay-." Six abruptly pulled back and stood to his feet, "No, Five, it's _not _okay! It was my fault! It's my fault I'm a freak, it's my fault everyone was hurt, and it's my fault that I'm sitting out here in the middle of nowhere in the dark!"

It was almost comical how Six made the most stable point of his life at the most unstable time. He was panting, worked up, and just stood there trying to figure out where to go from this point. Five soon stood up beside him and approached, placing his hands on Six's shoulders. "You're not a freak, Six, and none of this is your fault. This just was a few events that clashed and led into a tragic situation, but it's over now, we can move on."

With those words Six looked up at Five, just staring, reluctantly accepting that maybe this wasn't all because of him. With this relief he suddenly had a weird feeling and found himself acting upon it.

It wasn't until his mouth touched Five's that he realized what he was doing.

Six pulled back right away, "Five- I- I'm sorry!" Now was Five's time to stare, looking absolutely taken aback, not showing much other than the shock. In a desperate attempt to fix the situation, Six continued to apologize, repeatedly, and only stopped when Five finally responded. "Six, wait…" Six did so, standing absolutely still, and watched as Five slowly began to move in, shyly. Their lips met once again.

Neither really understood this gesture except that it felt rather nice and that it had to be a show of affection. They didn't separate, though, for a little while. Then they only broke for a second or so before trying this action once again. The second time they were open enough that they began to actually touch each other. Five's hand went straight for Six's yarn hair, as though he had been wanting to touch it or thinking about touching it. There was no doubt why as Six managed to have very soft hair for it being constantly covered in ink.

Meanwhile, Six trailed his own fingers across Five's burlap, him being careful not to scratch or hurt the other. It was hard because his hands wanted to clench up out of pleasure. Soon they decided to separate for good and Five immediately pulled him against his chest lovingly. It took a few seconds for him to speak, "Do you feel any better?" Six nodded softly and finally managed to crack a true smile. In fact, he actually felt happy, for the first time in a long while.

"Would you like to head home?" Six nodded again, "Yes… Will you… Will you stay with me tonight? Please?" Five smiled back, "Of course." They began to slowly head home, Six and Five grabbing their things on their way, and yet keeping their hands locked. Six didn't plan to leave Five again; he didn't think he ever could.

_**E**__**ND**_

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**Mable: I plan to do more 5x6 fics after this since this one went relatively well, writing wise. Maybe something longer next time. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed!**


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